Whilst Sleeping
by ladylokii
Summary: A cliche take on the fairytales - with an unlikely Prince Charming. After complaining to yourself that nothing ever happens to you, slowly your dreams become your reality. Can things really be like the fairytales? Reader Insert / Moriarty.
1. Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time, if those were the right words to say — there was a beautiful girl who had lived in a grand castle, well, slightly large house in the rural countryside. Her hair was [your hair colour] and flowed almost perfectly from the breeze that was wafting through the window. Her eyes — a stunning shade of [your eye colour] that could catch the attention of many young men around the country. One look would have been enough to make a man kill — I suppose you could say. That beautiful girl, was you.

It's a quiet Summer's afternoon and you're sitting on a small seat in the corner of your room gazing off opposite you, not paying attention to anything but just thinking to herself. Everything seemed to go out of focus as your concentration got more intense — thinking about different things that were bugging you at the time. Pale walls became plain colours in the corner of your eye and your thoughts seemed to almost come to life — playing out in front of you as they crossed your mind.

You sigh, exhausted from the heat blazing through the window and also due to the fact that you had been concentrating on nothing all day — it tired you out. You don't know why. You shake off your thoughts and make your way over to the window by your bed — in the direction you'd been staring for most of the day.

Outside looks pleasant — the trees outside the house are still, the leaves are perfect and untouched. The flower beds below them are thriving with no problems whatsoever. The sky is pale blue and still — not a cloud in sight. Everything is still, peaceful and everything looks happy. You give a small smile to the landscape — as if to thank it for being as beautiful as it is.

The sun is still blazing — you don't know how it has the energy to beam so bright all day. You wonder to yourself what it would be light to be as energetic, as bright as a sun all day. After you think this, you chuckle at yourself: you really can't believe you're thinking about what it would be like to be the sun. You think the heat is just going to your head.

In the distance, you can see the river — it's flowing gently from what you can see and there are a few people stood near it, playing around and having fun. You see one of the people dive into the river and raise your eyebrows, wondering what it would be like to dive into that very river yourself.

Those people look like they are enjoying themselves so much — if you were able to leave your room, you'd love to go and join them in diving and playing about by the river on such a beautiful day as this.

Unfortunately, you could not leave your room. Your step mother had the key and she'd locked you in there as a punishment for sneaking out at night to go and see one of the local boys. You'd made the mistake of getting caught on your way back in and from then on, your step mother decided to keep you under house arrest until she felt you were old enough to have learnt your lesson.

You sigh once more at the thought of not being able to go out and enjoy yourself like everyone else. It's a sad feeling — that you're stuck in a basically empty room alone whilst there are happy, energetic people out there making the most of their lives.

Once, just once in your life — you really want to experience some fun or some mischief. If only for a little while. You just want something exciting to happen to you. But then you stop for a moment and utter,

"But nothing ever happens to me..."


	2. There Once Was a Trail

You decide to go to bed eventually, undressing slowly, taking off each item of clothing as if with slight precision then throwing them to the other side of the room as if they were suddenly undesirable. You took a large yawn, stretching your arms in the air and arching your back. Then, you pull your pyjamas from under your pillow and put them on equally slowly to when you took of your clothes - sighing as you suddenly feel a lot more comfortable. You crawled under your quilt, pulling it up to your neck and nuzzling the pillow gently - seeking a comfortable position to fall asleep in. The quilt was cool as opposed to the warm sun that had been shining that day. You felt contempt under the quilt, feeling your eyes getting heavy, your mind clearing, the sleep like state beginning to take over you.

The room fades to black and you've fallen into a deep, deep sleep.

Upon waking from your sleep, you feel very dazed and confused. The view you awaken to see is not in fact the comfort of your own bedroom. You wake in front of a large, white mansion with an ascending lawn approaching it. You push yourself up into a sitting position on the grass, looking directly ahead at the fascinating home. You raise your eyebrows and marvel at it for a while before you come into proper terms with the fact that you're not really where you should be. Your raised brows furrow into a slight frown as you contemplate what on earth you're doing here. Your only conclusion is that you're dreaming and that this is all completely fake - though you think to yourself how wonderful it would be for this place to be real and how you'd love to stay there forever. The lawn has 3 sets of concrete steps leading to each higher stretch of grass and the last set of steps lead to a patio in front of the double door that would take you into the house itself. Either side of each set of steps are tall, concrete flower pots with elaborate patterns on them - they each hold a bouquet of beautiful pink flowers that seem to be illuminated from the beaming sun atop the house. The grass looks like it has been recently mowed with not a single weed in sight: it's all neatly trimmed and kept. On either side of the sets of steps is two more stretches of lawn. The grass is kept the same as the ascending path before you and it also has 3 small square areas of bushes and assorted flowers. You stand up slowly and turn 360 degrees to see your full surroundings and you can't help but gawk and everything and it's beauty.

You walk at a steady pace across the first stretch of grass and then up the first set of concrete steps. As you walk, you look to either side of you and smile at the small lay outs of flowers and bushes. It's all so beautiful to you and you wish you could honestly stay there. You question why it has to be a dream but obviously you know this could never be a reality for you so you vow to yourself to take everything from this place into your memory and always remember it. As you advance across the next stretch of grass and set of steps, you take a closer look at the concrete flower pots and pay attention to the pattern they have on them. The pattern is shaped to look like beautifully flowing silk in bunches which circles around the whole flower pot. The pattern is very elaborate and detailed - you wonder how long it must have taken. You walk across the final two stretchs of grass and up the final two sets of steps and reach the patio outside the double door. Lining the whole patio are four sets of huge concrete pillars which look as if they are holding up the third floor of the mansion. You feel slightly eager to explore to place as soon as possible. You look down at the bottom of the door and see a piece of paper selotaped to it. You kneel down and remove the paper, reading what had been written on it.  
"Alright, Princess? I think you'll want to step inside - I've got a little trail for you to follow. I want you to read my little message for you I've put in there: just as a little hello. -JM x"  
You question your own mind at this point - why on earth are you dreaming this? Though it is an interesting dream, you begin to really question whether this could end up as a nightmare. Despite your doubts, you push open the large door and enter the mansion.

You step inside the mansion and let the door close itself behind you. You look all around the main hall you find yourself in. The floor is checkered black and white and polished within an inch of its life. There is a blue patterned mat in the direct centre of the room just in front of your feet - but you daren't step on it for fear of getting it dirty and ruining it in some way. The wall in front of you is twice the size of a regular house's wall. It's astounding. There are four archways: the two in the middle lead to each side of a large stairwell and the outer two archways lead to two different hallways that would lead you to different areas of the first floor. The walls are lined with different decorations such as a large grandfather clock between the two arches to the far left. There are various chairs and loveseats, large lamps and a selection of paintings dotted around. In the corner of your eye, next to your feet, you notice some dirt. You look down at it and realise that it is a trail of breadcrumbs.  
"That must be what the note meant..." You mutter to yourself and follow it off to the archway that leads to the stairwell on the right without a second thought crossing your mind.

You follow the trail up the stairs that is sprinkled across the neatly fitted blue carpet. The staircase is almost 4 times as big as you, making you feel incredibly small compared to it. There are large tapestries lining the walls as you ascend the stairs and also busts of greek philosephers in small alcoves on the turning point of the staircase. In the direct middle of the ceiling is a very lowly hung chandelier - sculpted to look as if it is a water fountain flowing gently into a huge stone bowl. You walk around the turning point and ascend the stairs again, still following the breadcrumbs which now lead you immedietely to the left.

As you turn left, you walk through a short hallway with the same checkered black and white flooring as on the ground floor before the staircase. It doesn't take you long to walk through as you pass, on the left, two sets of fancy modeled chairs with very comfy looking cushions on them in a red and orange colour. To the right of you, there are two dark brown wooden tables with elaborate patterns crafted into them that hold photo frames of people from the past and also big, blue vases with golden bases. Between each are doors that lead into what you assume to be bedrooms - though you don't stop to take a look into them. Above you are similar chandeliers to what you saw on the staircase, except they are higher and have added pieces dangling from the bottom. The hallway has lots of paintings of historical people that look very beautifully dressed and presented. You wonder how on earth someone would come to own so many paintings of different people but then you remembered that many of the rich back in times like victorian days and georgian days knew many different people and that the families were very large. So it then came upon you how all the paintings probably came to be. You reach the other end of the small hallway and notice that the breadcrumbs turn right into one of the doors next to the wooden crafted table on the end. You follow the breadcrumbs through the door and see yourself in a large bathroom.

You see to the left of you a large white bathtub, a small toilet in the corner with golden detail and then a large patterned sink placed next to it. The floor remains checkered black and white and is scattered with the breadcrumbs leading you straight ahead. You really pay no attention to the bathroom - wanting to reach the next room in hope that maybe you'd find a clue or a big note that would explain something or give you at least some information. You run through the bathroom into the room in front of you and arrive in a grand main bedroom of the house.

The room is wallpapered with a deep green patterned wallpaper with swirls and blobs in rows and rows going across the whole room. It's very striking to look at and seems to really stand out against the whole place. There's a large fireplace opposite you with a clock on the mantlepiece and various vases and decorations. The carpet in the room is beige and brown and stretches across the whole floor. The bed in the room is a king sized bed with a thick duvet and large, fancy pillows to make it look perfect. You notice that the trail of breadcrumbs lead from the floor and then are scattered on the bed in a neat circle with an envelope placed on top of them. You see that the envelope had a red wax stamp on it with the signature of the sender engraved into it. You pick up the envelope gently and open it with caution. Inside is a piece of writing paper with a message neatly written out onto it,  
"(y/n),  
I'm glad you chose to follow my path to this. You've made me happy to know that you're willing to play along. How did you like the house? Gorgeous, isn't it? I wouldn't mind coming here again - if you would come with me... We'll have to see if you would play along again. You see, I've been playing games with boring human beings for so long now and I think that maybe a pretty little princess who's willing to go along with the game might just be the thing for me. I hope you don't mind. My mind's made up on this, really. So, Princess, I'll be seeing you shortly. There's no stopping me now - by the way... Everything is all set. I'm what you'd probably call your 'Prince Not-So Charming' or maybe I'll just be the good old fashioned Villain to you. We'll see.  
Until then, Princess. -JM x"

In the moment you finish reading the note, a chill passes down your spine and you feel shock surge through you. You can only wait, now. You feel a hand on your shoulder when you shudder which causes you to spin around almost instantly. Except, when you turn around - you wake up in your bed. At home - in your plain old bedroom. You sigh and look around you recapping what had just happened and what in hell it could possibly mean. All you seem to know is that you need to prepare for the worst.


	3. Wish

Upon waking from your dream of the trail and the mansion, you turn from your position in your bed and make so you're lying on your back - facing up at the ceiling.  
"I wonder who JM is..." You mumble to yourself before passing off the fact it was just a dream. Obviously JM wasn't real - else you would recognise the name... right?

This would be yet another day you'd spend alone and bored in your bedroom - only seeing another human being when your step mother sends you up some food to keep you going and then again when she returns to take the plates and glasses from you. The life you lead is beginning to rile you up with a longing that lurks deep in the pit of your stomache. A longing for excitement, adventure and maybe even a little bit of evil.

You get out of your bed sleepily and scramble toward the window - gazing out of it again at the river and at all the trees surrounding your home. Sometimes you wished there were a tiny fantasy world by the trees, inhabited by fairies or something. Anything that could be found and explored - you thought of it and relished in the idea. After your dream of the breadcrumb trail, you believed in the ideas of fairytales a little bit more than you'd like to admit to yourself. It gave you just that little hint of excitement you began longing for.

"I really do wish my life could be like the fairytales..." You utter, almost as if you were speaking to the window like it could reply to you and instantly grant you the wish. Though that was a silly idea. With those words said, you carried on with yet another day - only really getting up to eat something and have a quick drink. You stayed in bed for the most of the day - thinking over your fairytale ideas, imagining being a Princess like JM called you in the dream. If only.


	4. Prince Not So Charming

The day slipped by as slow as ever, leaving you almost extatic to go to bed. Considering you weren't really a person for sleeping in the day - finding it slightly pointless (seeing that you probably wouldn't sleep during the night if you took a nap during the day.) When the night drew in, you were still lying in your bed looking up at the ceiling and still contemplating almost impossible ideas in your head. Within a few minutes of realising that the darkness had rolled itself in, your eyes were closed and you were ready to head off into a better place - your dream land. You knew that things would be interesting there. You just knew it.

As you'd predicted to yourself, when you find yourself in your dream place, things were very interesting indeed. You 'woke' in the same room you found the last note from the breadcrumb trail in. Except this time, you look down at yourself and find that you weren't in fact still wearing your pyjamas, but a very pretty looking white and black dress. The length is very appealing, a quite fashionable cut: just above the knee and very ruffled at the bottom. It has no straps, the part of the dress that covers up your chest has a beautifully elegant black vintage pattern and has a large, black flower attatched to it with a long piece of see through black fabric flowing from the flower to the bottom of the dress. On your feet are a pretty little pair of heeled ankle boots in white and black with little black bows on the toe part. You smile to yourself and chuckle slightly, feeling like a princess in what looks like 'his' Majesty's bedroom - you wonder if you're going to be addressed by your Prince 'Not-So' Charming or whatever he called himself in the note.

You go over to the other side of the room and sit down on one of the very comfy looking chairs that faces the door to 'her' Majesty's bedroom. You wonder why you're in the man's bedroom instead of the woman's. The sun reveals itself from behind the clouds and illuminates the room and everything begins glowing. It's beautiful.  
"Wow..." Is the only word that escapes your lips. From the corner of your eye you see a small piece of paper that wasn't there before, it's lying on the bed with a rose next to it. You raise an eyebrow and walk over to it then pick it up to read what it says.  
"Face the mantlepiece and look down at the fireplace." It reads. You do as the note says and face the mantlepiece behind you and then look down at the fireplace. Not long after, you hear footsteps behind you and fight the urge to look behind no matter how much you really want to.

A hand touches your left shoulder lightly and the feel of the person's fingers against your skin sends a light shiver down your spine. Their hand is noteably cold. The fingers stroke your shoulder gently back and forth a few times - it's a funny feeling you get from it, slightly ticklish yet a feeling you want to feel again. The fingers stop stroking and hold onto your shoulder firmly leaving you feeling the warmth between the hand and your shoulder. You remain looking down at the fireplace the whole time - obeying the paper yet slightly scared to see who was there.  
"Aren't you going to look at me?" A voice accompanies the hand on your shoulder from behind. You notice a slight Irish accent and a very softly spoken voice. Your eyes swing to the left and look down at the hand before you turn your whole self to find the face that matches the captivating voice behind you.

As you turn to face the man, you notice his beautifully fitting all black suit and tight white dress shirt underneath - his tie is white and has the same vintage pattern as your dress. His shoes are jet black and well polished to match his suit. You assume the outfits have been planned in your head. From when you'd turned around, his hand had retracted from your shoulder to behind his back - as had his other hand. This puzzles you and leads you to ask about it.  
"What are you hiding behind your back?" He smiles lightly and then looks to the side before replying,  
"Your hair's not done..." You scoff at his comment as he turns you to face the large mirror that has appeared atop the mantlepiece. Your hair is flowing down and is curled slightly - though it really doesn't look so bad, if this is his idea of not done then you were eager to see it done properly.  
"Close your eyes." He orders. You obey.

You open your eyes when he says it's okay to and look into the mirror. You gasp at yourself when you see your hair is in a tight, neat updo. It's curled perfectly and held up with some simple clips. To top it all off, you notice a pretty little silver tiara placed gently atop your head. You're beaming a smile as you turn back to face the man behind you once again. He gives a small side smile and you can tell you look a thousand times more like a Princess.  
"There you go, Princess." Your jaw drops. This is JM. The man standing before you that is only a tiny bit taller than you are. He's in perfect shape, sporting his tightly fitted suit like he knows he's perfection. Neatly trimmed, well kept hair is not a bit out of place, all styled for a special occasion like the both of you are dressed. Light stubble lining his jaw and just above his lip but even so, his face remains perfect. It's free of blemishes, cuts, bruises, anything. He's flawless. Even such things as his nicely shaped eyebrows and the shape of his nose seem perfect to you. You're drawn in by him so much that you stand there gawking at him with a slightly open mouth for much longer than you probably should have.  
"What's your name?" You finally manage to get out your words and even when they come out, you sound so innocent and quiet.  
"James Moriarty." You begin to open your mouth to tell him your name in return but he pushes a finger to your mouth before you can start. "I already know who you are, Princess."

Before anything else can be said, he pulls out an envelope from his blazer pocket and pushes it into your hand without a word and then begins to walk away and out of the room.  
"M-Moriarty... Wait!" He doesn't even look back. You stand in the room, completely lost for words from your sudden encounter as you look down at the envelope that has your name written neatly onto it. Just before your mind sets on even opening the thing, it all seems to fade to black and you're back in your bedroom once again.


	5. Masquerade Invitation

You wake from yet another slightly cryptic dream with strange sense of fulfilment. When you'd made a wish for things to be more like fairytales - the wish came true in the form of a dream, you supposed. Though in a way you were slightly disappointed you didn't wake up as a fairy or a Princess or something of the like. You'd wished you'd have woken up in the largest, most grand king sized bed with the prettiest bedding alongside your Prince "Not-So" Charming - looking beside you as you both awake at the same time and as you both lean toward each other to embrace one another before giving a gentle, loving kiss. You remembered his features perfectly, the way the corner of his mouth curled up into a smile that looked slightly cheeky yet incredibly sweet. His caramel coloured eyes and how he could easily look scruffy - yet he was the smartest looking man you'd ever met up front. His voice that spoke softly to you - sounding so understanding. You smile to yourself in your bed as you continue the memory of James Moriarty in your head. Every part of you wishes he was real. That he'd climb up through your window and sweep you away somehow. Like the story of Rapunzel in a way - if only you could throw your hair out the window and hope for the best. But you knew that wasn't going to happen. It would never happen.

You roll over in your bed, so you're lying on your side - facing the other side of the room. You glance at your bedside table and notice there's a white envelope sitting neatly atop it. You wonder if your mother had just brought up a letter you'd recieved in the post until you remember the envelope from the dream. Laughing at yourself, you brush off the thought of your dream being a reality and lazily grab the envelope in your hand, bringing it closer to you so you could observe the front. You notice that it only has your name on it written neatly in what seemed to be an ink pen. There was no address, either: self delivered? You open the envelope with precision, almost as if you really didn't want to ruin it. As if you wanted to keep it safe in a way. You remove the letter from inside and take in the text which informs you that you have been invited to a masquerade ball that very night. It gives you an address but doesn't say who has invited you. You're more than confused at this point. The handwriting is exactly the same as the handwriting you'd seen on the envelope in your dream. A slight gasp of hope escapes your lips.

Your step mother knocks on the door briefly before entering with some breakfast on a tray for you. She takes a look at you gawking at the envelope and raises an eyebrow.  
"Is that the envelope from your bedside table, (y/n)?" She asks, with a high pitched questioning voice.  
"Yes, it is. Do you know who sent this? Or where it came from?" There's hope in your voice as you wonder whether someone of importance came to the door with a Royal invitation or something of the like.  
"A young man came to the door this morning with it, addressed to you. He wouldn't tell me who he was or anything. Short man, he was - wearing a suit, too. Very nice face, mind you. He said the letter was from a Lord and Lady or something."  
"..." You can't even reply. Why would you recieve an invitation to a masquerade from a Lord and Lady? You? Somebody who remains in their room until their step mother decides they won't touch a male body again. Everything becomes very strange to you. As you don't say anything in reply, your step mother leaves the breakfast on your bed and then leaves you alone.

You take your time to decide on what you're going to do - whether you're going to attend the masquerade or skip the invitation entirely. You're unsure as to whether it would be wise to attend an event that you had been invited to completely out of the blue. On the other hand, you're taken in by the idea that maybe you'd meet Moriarty in a completely real situation and you wouldn't be dreaming. You'd never know if you didn't take the chance you had right in front of you. You yourself wanted things to be like the fairytales and this was the perfect opportunity to make that a reality yourself. Within a small amount of time you convince yourself to attend and begin wondering what on earth you should wear. Considering you don't really own many dresses fit for a masquerade. Or even a mask for that matter. You have to come up with something - very quickly, too.


	6. Glass Slipper I

You rush over to your wardrobe in a sudden panic - knowing that you have nothing to wear that would be at all suitable for a masquerade. Everything you own is just casual everyday clothing as you're not really the type to be invited to such affairs. You begin to pout as you think you may not eventually be able to attend the party like you really want to. You begin to sulk before your step mother barges into your room carrying a large clothing bag and some other smaller carrier bags. You raise an eyebrow and she sets the things down onto your bed. You walk toward the bed and reveal what's inside the clothing bag to find a large, beautiful dress with a small note attatched to it that gives it away that the dress is yours. Your eyes widen as you pick it up in your hands, feeling the fabric and observing the style. The main colour of the dress is of a plain baby blue colour throughout. The bodice of the the dress has a strip through the middle with a beautiful vintage styled creme pattern - lined with a golden lace. The sleeves are off the shoulders, in line with the top of the bodice - donning the same pattern as the strip in the middle of the bodice. The skirt of the dress reaches to the floor and has two puffed bits of fabric in the same pattern as before, to give it a bit of character. The skirt puffs out like a bird cage - fit for a Princess. You notice some pretty white gloves in the clothing bag, too.

In the other bags, you find a mask and some shoes to match the dress. The mask has a faint music sheet pattern over it and is lined with a swirl and bead pattern. It's beautifully crafted and is creme in colour with a stick handle on the right side so it can be held up to the face easily. Then the shoes, oh the shoes you think, they're magnificent - perfection. Matching the creme and blue colour scheme, they are fully creme coloured with the same pattern as the mask on the front of the shoe. They have a bow to lace up the front part that is the baby blue colour. You instantly make for the dress again to put it on - asking your mother for help.

"Who sent all of this?" You ask as your step mother lifts the dress over your head and your arms are up in the air.  
"The same young man that left the envelope for you." She replies, pulling the dress down over you and brushing down the skirt of it. You adjust the sleeves and bodice, making sure it's on you correctly with no imperfections.  
"Who is he? Who's invited me to this?" You sigh and turn to your mother, concerned as to what could happen. Had your mother set up some fancy affair for you where you'll get married for certain and won't be able to go near any other males.  
"I'm not sure who he is. You don't know what's going on either. Are you sure it's wise to go?" She asks, concerned as a mother would be.  
"I'm sure I'll be fine. It could just be a surprise party or something. My friends haven't seen me in a while, anyway." You make up any excuse you can to put her at ease - knowing that if she gets worried about something, you wouldn't be able to attend and find out the mystery of who invited you.  
"Alright, if you're sure."

Your step mother leaves the room once again and you begin putting your shoes on carefully, all the while admiring yourself in the mirror as if you don't even recognise yourself. Once your shoes are on with neatly tied bows, you straighten out your dress again and begin to add some light make up to your face: foundation, eyeliner, mascara, blusher and lipstick. You make sure it's all perfect and then pick up your mask, putting it up to your face and admiring yourself once more. You've never felt as beautiful as you do right now, everything about yourself seems glamorous and perfect.

Feeling satisfied with yourself, you leave your room and walk down to the front door, calling goodbye to your mother on the way out. You open the door and find a large, white vintage Rolls Royce waiting outside for you.  
"Classy..." You utter to yourself, admiring the vintage style of the car. You advance towards it and open the door to the back seat, getting in slowly and all the while making sure your dress doesn't get ruined on the floor. When you close the door and settle into the car, you fix your seatbelt comfortably and you begin the journey to the masquerade. You see the city disappear behind you as you drive through the countryside - taking in the trees, the grand houses and the fields that you speed past. After driving for a while through small country lanes and past forests and fields you reach a large gate that is the entrance to a long drive way.


	7. Glass Slipper II

Just as you enter into the venue, everything is grand, beautiful with one thing wrong with the whole picture: you. You feel out of place - uneasy within the large walls of almost royalty. The sea of people that surround you begin to get too overpowering very quickly and the various looks you recieve from them begin to get unnerving to you. With this, you flee up the stairs to the balcony on the upper floor, that overlooks the party below and also leads to a door with a balcony that overlooks the view of the gardens around the home. You choose to look at the gardens instead of the strange party goers below you. Opening the doors, you take in a deep breath of the fresh air from outside and smile as you see the beautiful gardens beneath you. You take a small step forward onto the small balcony and lean against the railing, taking in everything there is to see. The flower arrangements, the sculptures and better yet, the view of afar: the lakes and rivers. Everything here is perfect yet you feel very uncomfortable and out of place in a way - despite your outfit and manners fitting in nicely. You feel as if people have been talking with you as the subject matter and this concerns you greatly.  
"What're you doing all alone up here?" Asks a voice from behind. You turn around to see Moriarty, JM as you remember him from your dream.  
"It's... you." You begin to let a confused expression control your features - raising your eyebrow and gawking slightly.  
"Yes, it's me. I thought that'd be pretty obvious. With the fairytale ball and everything." He replies in an almost sarcastic tone, stepping slowly toward you on the balcony.  
"I thought you were just a dream..." You take in a breath, "I thought you only existed in my dream. But you're real..." You stutter, you'd never met this man before except for in your dream but now all of a sudden he's real and inviting you to parties? You wanted to know what the hell was going on. "How does that even work?"  
"I'll tell you that eventually. But for now, I want you to live your fairytale." He begins to get even closer, so much so that he's in your 'bubble' of personal space, as it were. You try to back away but he holds your waist and keeps you close to him.  
"I don't understand what's going on..." You begin to look vacant, sad, almost empty. You allow your hazy eyes to wander up and meet his; moving your hands atop his own in a swift, delicate movement that allows you to trace his fingers with your own. A gentle gesture with a gentle, loving yet confused meaning. Moriarty stood before you still, trying strenuously to read through your eyes; into your mind yet he found nothing. He couldn't figure out anything at this point - your eyes look dead to him. Lifeless. The confusion of the situation leaves you incapable of any sort of empathy.  
"You don't have to be frightened, if you are..."  
"I'm not." He chuckles, loosening his grip on your waist and taking a small step back, ensuring your personal space is returned to you properly. Instead of holding you at waist height in full force, he simply rests one hand against your waist and with his other hand, he holds yours upright in a position ready for a waltz. You hear the music change from the ground floor of the venue and place your spare hand on Moriarty's shoulder. You brave it, you don't want to feel scared - Moriarty interests you, entices you. You want to open up; you want to be read by him. You both begin swaying gingerly in time with one another to the music you hear. All this time, you've not taken your eyes off each other; yours are beginning to show some light, displaying some form of life within you. You're pushing your negativity away and allowing happiness in, living in the moment. Moriarty notices this and a light grin touches the corners of his mouth, he knows you're opening - he can sense that you'll let him in. He's getting what he wants and he knows you're easy to open up to others. Your naive, readability was some of the reason he came to you in the first place. He didn't want a challenge - he wanted an easy victory and someone he could mess with without being caught. He'd found that person.  
"Do you mind if I kiss you?" He whispers, loud enough for you to hear him clearly yet quiet enough to make you shiver slightly at the raspy whisper close to your ear. You give a small nod in reply and draw yourself closer to Moriarty, as close as you were before.

You're facing Moriarty, close enough so that the tips of your noses are touching slightly. He slips his right hand into yours which is fidding with your fingernails - 'causing you to stop fiddling as he interlocks his slender fingers between yours. His thumb gently strokes against yours and you gaze into his eyes before looking back down past your nose, fixing your eyes away from his. You're nervous. He holds your left hand in his now, once again interlocking his fingers in between your own. You begin trying to control your breathing, not letting it become heavy or fast paced. You're trying to keep yourself in a calm state of being, or more like trying not to give it away that you're incredibly nervous at this point. You know he can already tell what your current mind set is, though: he's too clever to see through your attempt at a facade. He's smiling slightly at the fact you can't bring yourself to look him directly in the eye and how you're noticeably trying to slow down your own breathing. No matter how cliche it sounds to say it, you've never felt exactly this way in the company of someone before. You've never felt more or less speechless, taken aback by someone like you are at this moment. It had never occurred to you how beautiful someone can be in your head and how much more than that they are in physical prescence. Not even when you were sneaking around with boys did you feel at least something like this, like a connection, no - back then it was just about self justification, trying to feel at least somewhat good about yourself. But now, you're trying not to turn away entirely. Something about this feels so intense and such a connection you don't understand... Or know how to handle. Being so close face to face with someone you find as remarkable as him, torments you in a way and despite this being solid reality, you deny that this could possibly be real. You look into his eyes once again and know that he's not taken his off you. Moriarty knows what he wants, no doubts and no hesitations. He's fixated on playing a game that he can win - this is where you come into his life: as a pawn in his game. Despite this, he feels you have a little something in you that he finds appealing, even if it's in the smallest of ways. He likes that you're playing the game with him, that you're accepting the different things that happen, solely so he has something to do throughout the day. Whilst he has different schemes, plans and ideas reeling through his mind, you are blissfully unaware of such things and it doesn't seem to cross your mind at all. You're content in this situation, with everything that happens to you right now. It's all happening like the fairytales, just as you wanted. Moriarty is more than pleased you like the fairytale style - it makes everything all the better the to play with. You open your mouth to take in some air, making a slight gasping sound. You start ignoring your own mind, telling you this isn't real, thinking that even if this isn't real - you'd make the most of what you currently have here. You slowly lean your forehead against Moriarty's and nuzzle your nose against his slightly, all the while you're unlocking your hands from his and pulling his body closer to yours by his hips. Once you're as close as you could possibly get, you place one arm around the back of his neck and rest the hand of the other arm on the back of his head, changing from leaning against his forhead to deeply looking into his eyes. With this, he holds your cheek in his hand, strokes it with his thumb and smiles at you - before eventually placing his hands on the small of your back, against the soft fabric of your dress. You hold this position for a while, looking into each other's eyes solely.  
"No rush..." He whispers with a chuckle. You smile and give a small scoff at the remark as he brings his face closer to yours and you do the same, settling your lips against each other's into a deep, romantic yet slightly closed kiss.

The both of you part from each other and return to the ground floor and join the party, you float down the stairs with Moriarty following behind. You feel his hard stare against your back and carry on nevertheless. The party seems to have been in full swing when you'd arrived and whilst you had been upstairs; but now everything has died down. People are chatting casually, calming down from the full extent of the party. As you pass through a separated crowd, Moriarty close behind, you hear whispers. You can't hear much of what the crowd are saying but all you manage to pick up are words like "consulting criminal," "devil" and "manipulative." You look at the different characters for a brief moment with a quizzing expression, confused as to what they actually meant. They must be joking. They had to be. You turn around to see Moriarty, ready to ask him what the words meant to him but to find him surrounded by several women in low cut dresses, fawning over the man who'd just kissed you moments ago.  
"Moriarty..." You utter, giving a small wave to capture attention. But to no avail. He was seized by these women and you couldn't get him away. A small part of you sunk slightly.  
"I'll be leaving..." You whisper, hoping the words will remain; that he'll react towards this though you know it was a stupid thought, a little hope was needed. You turn away, facing the door now, and proceed to leave the party in the same rolls royce that got you there. As you open the door and begin to walk out, you hear a voice behind you,  
"(y/n) where are you going?" He calls out.  
"Home. I'd better go. My mother will worry." Before you can shake yourself, Moriarty is grabbing your wrist, trying to pull you back into the party, wanting you to stay. He can't have you thinking bad of him, not yet. He needs to reel you in and this is not part of his plan. Moriarty grimaces, the thought of his fun being spoiled so early is killing him. He knows you're doubting him by your sudden change in body language. You were so relaxed but now you're rushing to leave just so you can save yourself from getting hurt, just in case.  
"Can't you stay?"  
"No..."  
"Sorry to hear it... It's a shame you can't. I'll come and see you soon, (y/n.)" He gives you a sympathetic smile from one side of his mouth and his eyebrows slant into the same sort of sympathetic structure. Without replying, you simply nod and resume leaving the party and get into the car waiting for you outside. You just want to get home, scared of your heart being broken, scared of your head being messed with. You don't know what to think of the evening but you just wanted to think about your bed, about going to sleep and having a plain dream. Anything but Moriarty. Anything.

The car journey home went quickly due to you overthinking everything that happened on the way out of the party. He kissed you, yet all those women seemed to captivate him a lot more. You sigh, stepping out of the car again and returning into your home, greeting your step mother with a quiet hello before retreating up into your bedroom and stripping off your dress and crawling into bed without a second thought. You check the clock quickly, it's past midnight. You're usually in bed before this time - you feel extremely exhausted. Your bed is twice as comfy, feeling soft and gentle against your skin. You settle down and nuzzle your cheek against your pillow, relaxing into a deep sleep.


End file.
